


Lullaby of Woe

by KenjiroS



Series: Warm nights [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Body Horror, Healing, Horror, M/M, One Shot, Psychological Horror, Psychological Trauma, Sickfic, Surreal, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:54:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21747859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KenjiroS/pseuds/KenjiroS
Summary: One man's journey back from the darkness of death to the world of the living...And to the one who led the way.
Relationships: Semi Eita/Shirabu Kenjirou
Series: Warm nights [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1099812
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	Lullaby of Woe

**Author's Note:**

> Having read In The Pines is not imperative but it would help a lot. A lot lot. It's a tiny one, guys, spare a few minutes to go over it. It will make things clearer.

****

**_00:01_ **

**_01.03_ **

White. Lightning. Fire. Salt in a wound. Red-hot knife. Blue flames. Dry winds carrying coarse sands. A desert in his eyes. Poison like ivy, pinning him to the frozen earth. Bones pressing down, caging him in his grave of flesh. Blood spilling slowly, freezing his hair to the soil. Corpses, corpses everywhere.

Throat broken and bleeding, no voice escaping his torn voice box. No strength to even choke on the life force filling his chest and dripping on the ice. No strength to even breathe, not really. No life to hear anything beyond the screams, both theirs and his own. The ones in his head and the ones in theirs, as they all died. Dark, so very dark, dark behind the trees, dark behind his open eyes. Dark in his broken mind.

****

****

**_01:15_ **

**_03.03_ **

Blue skies and warm air. Frost on his tongue, sliding down his chest. Lungs burning with ice. Waves crashing in the distance. Pain. White, burning. Lightning up and down his spine. Absinthe in his mouth, ivy in his nose. Coins on his eyes. A softly rocking boat. A silent ferryman. Voices dripping in and out of his consciousness. Lava on his fingertips, running up his hands and seeping in his bones. No strength to open his eyes. No strength to call out. No strength to think about calling out.

Cold. So very cold. Sun on his skin, snow underneath. Cold. So very cold. Muscles like quartz. Thorns binding him to the bottom of the boat. The mute ferryman. Birds…Non-existent birds. Wings and feathers like distant dreams. Like close nightmares. Non-existent wings. Gold on his eyelids, getting warmer.

Hot. So very hot. Burning metal over thin skin and dry eyes. Coins and precious gems pressing down, dripping in his mouth. Empty bones, dry flesh. Stolen memories of broken skies. Of snow and hail and fog. Of rain.

****

**_1:30_**

**_27.03_ **

Fire down his spine. Warmth on one side, seeping frost on the other. Heavy velvet on his eyes. Blind. Always blind. Metal on his tongue. Mute. Always mute. Sharp bones pressing against paper skin. Blood pulsing around cartilage and tendon and nail. In his ears. Deaf. Always deaf.

Sharp teeth digging into broken lips. Claws tearing through bloodless flesh. Feathers filling his lungs. Pressure, so much pressure. No.

No.

No.

No.

No sound. Not even a whimper. Not even a whisper. Mute. Always mute. Blood running down his throat.

No light. Not even a spark. Not even a shadow. Blind. Always blind. Fabric over his eyes, tight and bruising. No lashes to stop it from touching. From scratching. From burning. It burnt.

It.

Burnt.

No sound. Not even a wave crashing. Not even a butterfly’s soft touch on a petal. Deaf. Always deaf. Pressure in his ears, liquid sloshing in his mind. Obscuring life. Life… Life ? Death ? Limbo. Always in Limbo…

No taste. Not even a drop of water. Not even a breath of cold air. Numb. Always numb. Tepid winds and heavy sands. Bone sediment. Rotten feathers. Poison. Acid. Mind over matter. Broken mind over lifeless matter.

Cold.

Burning cold.

Rivers running up, oceans pulling back, air escaping lungs. Drowning. Drowning… Sun dipping behind the horizon to the north.

Ticking clock slowing down.

Hands moving back.

****

****

**_03:27_ **

**_07.04_ **

Rhythm. Beneath his bones. Over his chest. Even, even rhythm. Coarse cloth all over him. Leather, sticky, creaky leather, under his back. Warm leather. Irritatingly warm leather. Irritatingly warm air. Something soft over his body, up to his nose. Tongue loose and useless in his mouth. Dry. So dry. Everything inside was dry, everything outside was humid.

No strength to move. To object. To call out. To whisper. To lick his lips.

Dry, it was all so dry. Skin like parchment paper over eyes like old glass. Scratched and bleeding and blind, blind, blind…

Blind. Always…

Always ?

Always.

Always ? Why always…

Always.

Crinkling in his ears. Little pops and cracks and taps. No. Soft sloshing. Rhythm in his ears, not only in his bones. Deaf. Always deaf… Always ? Why…always ?

Static. New sound. New lie born of his shredded mind. Static, loud and screaming. Stop. Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop !

Time and time, clocks and sunrises and tides. Stop. The static burrowing like a worm, digging and digging and clawing and screeching. Stop. Cracking earth and fires, again and again. Moons and stars and suns, dying again and again. Time and time. Stop.

Stop.

Stop !

Deaf. Always deaf. No more static. No more…anything. Except for the…

Rhythm. Even, smooth, seeping his bones, calling his mind back. Back ? Back. Where to…No back. No forward. Nothing. Static…No static. Just rhythm.

Leather under his back, warm, so warm, so…warm. Too warm. Sticking and pulling. Pulling ? On what ? Pulling.

Soft on his front, caressing his skin. No. Too scratchy. Scratchy ? Scratchy.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop !

**_04:57_**

**_14.04_ **

****

Green. Green ? Green. Brilliant green. No colour in sight, but there was green. It felt green. Tasted green. Cool, but not freezing. No ice. The word… Word ? Word. The word…

Crisp. No. No ? Yes… Maybe. Not. Not crisp. No… It was almost on his tongue, the…sound. Word. Yes, word. The word was almost... But not crisp…

Fresh ? Fresh. Yes. It was…fresh. The air was green and fresh. The air tasted new and old. It smelled ancient and…shine. No. Glow ? No… Shiny…Yes. It was as shiny as… As.

Uneven surface beneath him but the fabric was soft and…fur. No. Skin ? Skin. Pelt. Furry… No. It was soft. It felt good on the skin. It…soothed. 

Smooth and soft and warm. Everything was warm. Nice.

Something was pressing down. Light but heavy. Breath choked and fluttered in his chest. Pain flared, burned. Ran up and down his bones like…Lightning. Lightning was familiar. It was white and hot and pain. No. Pain…? Painful.

Soft sounds touched, in his mind for a while and then gone. No rhythm. Why…Where was the rhythm ?And why was everything so dry ?

Light fabric on his eyes. Barely there. Touch like…feathers. The softest feathers. Feathers…

Feathers ?

Feathers. They were pain. They were a storm and burning ice and blood and blood and blood… They were…crippling. Feathers were not good. They were soft and treacherous. Feathers were a locked spine and useless skin and sharp bones. Feathers were ice, long before the rhythm and the warm. Feathers were pain and pressure in his head, and torn throat and screams, screams, screams… And useless flesh and mud and iron in the air.

Feathers were… Growls.

He was…not there. Not there anymore. Growling, steps. Light steps ? Not…pain. No. Yes. Yes. Growling was pain. Pain.

Fire down his body, snow beneath the skin. Ribs pressed down, chaining lungs and flesh and spirit. Not there. He was not there. The…growls were closer. More steps. Many steps. Too many steps.

He was… Pain. It was coming. Like last time. Exactly like last time. Stop.

The growls had to…Stop. They would hurt and tear and pull and bleed. Stop.

They would rip and gnaw and open…

Stop.

Stop, stop, stop…

No voice. Mute. Always mute. No salvation. No fight. No…Stop.

Stop !

No eyes.

Blind. Always blind…

Stop…

Stop…

Lightning !

Everything going tense. Skin tearing under bones, under nails, under itself. Blood in his mouth, running out, slicking the fabric over his eyes. Hurt, hurt, hurt, and hurt more…Stop…

Time and time and time again. Stars rising and dying and being reborn. Trees falling down and under, and then even more…

Not a lightning. No ? No. Didn’t taste like lightning. Not taste. Sound ? Yes. A sound. Sharp and piercing as a lightning, and just as torturous.

But.

The growling was no more. Gone.

Back was the…rumbling. Water ? Water. Running water. Running water was…good. Cold. But good cold.

Why was everything so dry ? He… He. Cold could be good. Yes. He…

Cold on his lips and it burned, forcing the air out and constricting his ribs. It hurt and bled and water was bad, bad, bad…

Stop.

**_06:14_ **

**_08.05_ **

****

The rhythm was back. It was a distinct sound, seeping into his bones. It was gentle, even, lulling him between dream and nightmare, and he did his best to focus on it to distract himself. It was familiar, like something he had experienced in the past, a fleeting mist of a memory, and no matter how much he chased, no matter how much he wanted to call after it, it never got close enough to grasp. And it was such a small thing, the sound and feel of it, but it was the only clear sensation in his narrow world.

He was blind. Always blind. Whatever was over his eyes this time was soft but it still scratched and burnt.

He was also mute. Always mute. He couldn’t say that it hurt. Could never scream his agony, could never curse the broken earth and bleeding rivers for all they’ve caused him. Life itself had abandoned him to the mercy of the elements and the cold, cold, cold. To the false promises of the ice, to the sweet lies of the snow.

He knew he was not alone. There someone else. Someone colder, harder, sharper. Someone who never spoke, never made a random sound. Someone who stepped around like a… Like…

Cat. Cat ? Cat. Cats. He let the rhythm melt the wall between dream and dream, looking for the word he’d just discovered. Cat…

Cat…

Growl. He felt whatever skin and tendon and muscle was under the heavy fabric contract. Shake. No. He was losing the rhythm. Chattering, and his train of thought was going, going, going, dripping from his mouth and on the leather. Pain, more warmth, sticky, sticky, sour and iron, sticky warmth on his face. Wet, it was all getting wet and the chattering didn’t allow his to feel the rhythm anymore. No…

He wanted the sound. He had to get it back. The sound was good. Real. The sound didn’t hurt. The sound was warm and heavy and it vibrated through what he believed was his body. He needed it back. He had to… But the chattering slid down from his lips and down his throat, tearing and ribbing and burning again.

He had to call out after it. He couldn’t. The growls rang through his skull, pressing unseeing eyes in the fabric and making him shake even more. He wanted it to stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop…

Cold on his lips. Wet, but not hot. Not hot. Rhythm beneath his bones, leather sticking to him. Cloth on top of him, on his chest and skin and eyes. No chattering. No growling. No rapid footsteps. No foam dripping down his face and back and wounds and hair and feathers, feathers, feathers, he hated feathers, feathers hurt so much. Claws, tiny and dirty and black and mud-stained, they shredded and cut and pulled out and there was blood and feathers and bone and it cut, it cut, it cut, it hurt, and then there were the feathers and it was wet and sticky and the mud was red, red, red, and bones broke and nails broke and teeth broke and his mind broke, broke, broke, and dripped and spilled and seeped in the soil…

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Cat. Cat ? Cat. Silent footsteps, hard claws, gentle touch. Cat. No growling. Just cat. Cat…

Had he ever seen a cat ? Seen…Had he ever seen… Had he ? The rhythm was good, centering him, pulling him down and calming his mind. Cat… How did cats looks like ? What was a…

Growling.

No.

No.

That was wrong. Cats didn’t growl. Why ? How ? Didn’t matter. So, if cats didn’t growl…And the stranger was a cat… What ? No. He wasn’t a cat, he just stepped and touched like one. He was something else.

White and tall and powerful. He was… Birds didn’t exist. Birds ? Bird. He was a bird. But birds were a lie. And the lie had feathers and feathers were bad, so…He wasn’t a… What ?

Cat. How did cats look like ? How did anything look like ?

Small ? Small. And…warm. Claws, but not the ones that shredded. No. Just claws. And…soft. Words…Words came and went…Not soft. Cats were not soft, no, there was something else. Cats were…

Fluffy ? Words ? Fluffy ? Yes. Cats were fluffy. He wasn’t sure if they were real, but they were small and warm and fluffy. And they didn’t growl.

He allowed his mind to settle back in the rhythm. Cats were real. He had never seen one but he would prove it to…whoever was with him, the one who was neither a bird nor a cat. He would prove it. And…touch the cat. Yes. He would.

**_09:00_ **

**_29.05_ **

****

Blood was flowing but he was lightheaded and even without seeing a thing he could still feel how wrong everything was. The leather was still under him but he was up and leaning on…On. His hands were shaking, his knees were bouncing and his teeth were clenched so tightly he could hear them grind. None of this was under his control. His failing body, burning with lightning up and down his spine, was refusing to obey and he felt it would come apart like…Like. Words were still difficult.

Words…He was blind. Blind. Always blind. But…he could feel his tight teeth and burnt tongue and the inside of his cheeks, and for a while he hadn’t tasted blood so maybe…

He knew he wasn’t alone. The other, who wasn’t a cat but also wasn’t a bird, was always there. The other wet his lips and spooned water between them, and sometimes would touch him, just a little. The other was always cold to the point of burning. The other had skin soft like… Like. Like a cat. Cat ? No, not like a cat. But it was smooth and soft and cold beneath the surface. But the other was always gentle and careful and the touch was always slow and never dropped him back in the screaming chaos of his own mind.

So if the other were there right now…He could…He. He could. He could show in some way…

He could.

Yes.

He had to.

Time and time and time passed. Seeds sprung into saplings into trees into millennial monuments. The earth cracked and split and then moved back together, never to be the same again. The sky fell and burnt and rained fire and coal and ash.

The other was silent. The other was always silent. Maybe the other was also mute.

Maybe he wasn’t mute. Maybe he’d been for a while, but not forever. Maybe he could…

He moved his lips. Strange waning muscles creaked under paper skin but he had to try. The rhythm was still there to ground him. He just had to…Speak.

How. How did one speak ? Had he ever spoken before ? It didn’t matter. He hadn’t been able to taste and now he could. He could feel, he could tell the outside of his mind from the inside. He could speak.

First, he had to…

Move the fingers on one hand. They felt foreign, bony, sharp, not his. It didn’t matter. If only he could move, then he would know he could speak and then the other would help him stop shaking. Yes. Fingers.

One.

By.

One.

No. He couldn’t feel a movement. The flesh was moving but not where he wanted it to. No. He had to. One finger moved but it was wrong, wrong, wrong, not there, not how it was supposed to, how was he supposed to tell the other about the cats and how birds were not real if he couldn’t even…

His tiny world tilted and then stilled. Cold flesh on his, cold, cold, cold, so cold, but not hard, not anymore. A hand pressing down on his, lightly, covering his fingers and the sharpness of his knee under the fabric. He didn’t dare to move. To breathe.

The rhythm was still there but it was all wrong and out of tune and it was wrong, wrong, so wrong…

\- Kenjiro ?

Yes. No. No ? Yes ? Yes. Yes. This was familiar. The sound the other had made was familiar. He had heard it before. He knew he had, just as he knew cats were fluffy and growling was bad. But he didn’t know what it meant. He just knew it was important.

\- Kenjiro. – The other’s voice was as soft as his hair and how did he know that ? It didn’t matter. The shaking and chattering was dying down, warming him back up even with the cold hand on top of his. – Kenjiro…

**_09:42_ **

**_03.06_ **

****

It was a miserable morning. He wasn’t sure where the thought had come from, or what it really meant, but it was. How could a morning be miserable ? Could nights be sad ? Was there a warm cheery afternoon somewhere out there, with…With what ? Tea. Yes. He didn’t know what tea was but it was a part of the happy afternoon.

And…Word. Words. Word. Word ? The word was… Not there. But there was a memory and he latched onto it just as cold arms slid under his knees and shoulders, lifting him without the other making a sound. The memory was…Of taste. Hard, in his mouth. Sour…No, that was not it. It was like…tears. Salt. Hard and salty and he liked it. It was a good memory, even if it were nothing more than a shadow of a sensation he had probably experienced some time in his past.

Memories came and went. Most stuck around for long enough for him to pull them apart and inspect them, and try to make sense of them. He was blind, had always been blind, he knew now, because all the memories were black. The only difference was the lack of scratching on his eyes, but that could be his failing mind protecting itself.

He didn’t know who the other was. Names were funny, there for a breath and gone in a moment. He didn’t know who he was himself either. He would, just as he would tell the other about the cats and the birds and the happy afternoons. Yes, he would.

**_10:12_ **

**_18.06_ **

****

He made his first effort to walk and it was a…Bad. It was a bad ? No. It was…bad. Better.

Body heavy on the tree behind him, the other’s fingers loose around his wrist, he pushed himself and tried to force his legs to take his weight.

He didn’t crash on the soft…green under. His chest his a bony shoulder and he choked, just hanging there and holding tight. The other was still cold, still so very cold, but he was getting used to it. The ice was just as a part of the other as the other’s smooth skin and long fingers.

He would get it right. He would.

**_10:58_ **

**_30.06_ **

****

\- My name… - Throat on fire, he still did his best. It felt like… Like something had been there and had been ripped apart, leaving a barely healed wound. It hurt but he would keep going. He was walking, slowly, and while the other still didn’t talk much, he made the occasional sound or, only sometimes, asked a question. His voice was soft and gentle, careful. He hadn’t used that sound anymore, though. That one, when he had managed to move his finger the first time. And with his eyes gone, because he was blind, he was always blind, had always been blind, he couldn’t get a sense of himself, not really. And the scattered little bits and pieces that came to him in dreams and nightmares and waves and on wings of dragonflies, he knew names were important. Not sure why, but he knew he needed his own. If heh ad one, of course.

Because he had gotten a rather good idea of what hurt and how much. His back was permanently bent in a curve, with any attempt at standing straighter sending lightning up and down his entire body. His skin was dry and thin and rustling, unlike the other’s. He knew he was a little shorter than the other, knew that he had soft hair that the other kept cut and combed and silky. But he had the nagging feeling that names were just as important.

\- Your name ? – It was soft, but the other no longer whispered around him. Walking through the green, his feet still stumbling here and there, he enjoyed the sounds of the life in there. No more screaming in his head, only others outside. He liked it. – You want to know your name ?

He had to answer. The other had said once, while they had been laying around a cracking fire in the warm summer night, that he could nod or use his hands to talk if speaking was too painful. But he had promised he would be able to, made a vow to himself, so he had to keep going.

\- Ye… - The sound ended there but the other probably understood. He hummed, cold fingers sometimes touching his and didn’t respond for…time. Time and time and time again.

\- It’s Kenjiro. Well, for everyone else you are Shirabu but you allow me to use your given name. It’s an honour.

Kenjiro. He tried to swish it around in his mouth and tongue and mind. There was…

A.

Memory.

He knew who Kenjiro was. He had…

Known him. He knew him. But was that supposed to be him ?

No. Kenjiro was a memory of a…

Stranger. Yes. He was a stranger he’d met before…When ? Before. Long time ago. Before…Before.

\- You don’t believe me. It’s okay. – The other touched his hand. – You will. I promise you, on my own soul and life, that it will be okay. And that you will be better.

Time and time and time and time…

And time…

And time.

Again.

\- Your name ?

A rustling laugh, still soft like the green under his feet.

\- How have you been calling me so far ? – There was no reason not to answer. And he wouldn’t be able to speak anyway after that.

\- Other.

\- Other. I guess I am, of sorts. But you can call me Eita.

**_11:15_ **

**_20.07_ **

****

****

\- So where are we going ? – Eita sighed a little beside him.

\- Shiratorizawa.

**_11:41_**

**_29.07_ **

****

\- Eita ? – A soft hum. Green sounds, green smells. Green under his feet, under his fingertips, in his lungs. Green not behind his eyelids. – Why are we going back to Shiratorizawa ?

Time slipped and slid, turning sideways and cracking, bleeding lightning and white and fire, and it burnt, it burnt, it burnt…

\- You remember. – He didn’t answer. – Tell me… - Eita paused. He did that a lot, pause in the middle of…words…like he was trying not to say something. It was okay. He knew words could be difficult. He knew… - What’s the last thing you remember from Shiratorizawa ?

Feathers. Feathers and claws, no, not claws. Not claws ? Not claws. Feathers and not claws and screeching and weight on top of him and sharp…sharp pulling and ripping through flesh and skin and bone, tearing and cutting and bleeding…And screeching. Him and the feathers. Calling out but there had been nothing, just empty space and pain, pain, pain, and cracked earth, scorched from his pain. Ice, ice everywhere, burying him and cutting and sticking everywhere, crawling down his chest and freezing bones and tendons until he couldn’t…

Until he couldn’t what ?

Until he couldn’t.

\- There were feathers. – They stopped and Eita tugged on his hand until he found a tree to lean on. – Only not like the bloody ones. Not like last time. Those were…

Birds. But birds didn’t exist. So those had been different. Maybe Eita would know.

\- They looked like birds. But birds don’t exist, so… - The hand loose around his waist tightened for a moment.

\- What do you mean, birds don’t exist ? Kenjiro, birds are real. As real as the grass and the tree you’re leaning on and the train we took to get to here. As real as me.

No.

Eita was wrong.

Birds…were made up. How to explain it gently ?

\- Eita, those are cats you’re thinking about. Cats are real. Birds are not.

Rustling cloth, rustling leaves. Rustling green and blue and brown under his feet.

\- What about your last clear memory in general ? – Oh, so he was dropping the topic. Maybe he’d realised he’d been wrong. Yeah, like that had ever happened. He was probably thinking how he would counter the argument next time. He felt his lips twitch. Too bad. He’d never win an argument anyway. As for the question…

He tried to go back and make sense of the memories. Past the scratching in his eyes and the fire down his spine. Back, back, back…

Back.

Pain.

Growling.

Screams. His own.

Warmth. Strange warmth.

Screams. His own.

Rhythm.

Screams. His own.

Warmth. Even stranger warmth.

Unnatural warmth.

Warmth that hurt. .

Screams. His own.

Screams. Not his own.

Shouting. .

Familiar voice shouting.

Eita…shouting ?

Hands on him.

Stop.

Stop. .

Stop.

Feathers.

\- It’s the same…Memory. – A warm breath on his shoulder and a cold body against his. He was almost used to the contradiction that was Eita.

Green around him. Brown under him. Blue high above. He couldn’t taste a colour on Eita but he knew he was the shade of ice. Clear, sharp, cutting and dangerous. A mirror and a glass. Window and a wall. But not like the painful cold in his memory. Eita was…he just was.

\- That’s…Yeah. – The moment stopped and stretched and stretched and… - They have the best doctor I know.

A doctor. A healer.

They needed a healer ?

Why ?

\- Why are we looking for a…doctor ? – Another pause, but he could feel Eita breathing in.

\- For your eyes. I have some idea where we can go next for…the other…issue, but. I don’t trust anyone else with something that important or delicate. Hayato works fast and he has good, stable hands. We’ll be in and out of their territory before the rest of them realise we’ve been around.

All was good and logical but there was only one problem.

\- And why are we looking for a doctor for my eyes ?

\- Because. You…Can’t…See ? Right ? – The better question was why was that a, well, question.

\- Yes…But I’ve never been able to see. I’ve always been blind…?

\- Kenjiro, no…

And then he was enveloped in a hug that froze him to the bone and warmed his blood. Eita pressed on him until he buried his nose in his shoulder and pet his hair until he felt like purring. – Whatever those animals did to you, and I don’t mean their rabid dogs, that’s what ruined your eyes. You haven’t… You’ve never been blind before that. Even when you weren’t well, you still…

\- You’re mistaken. There is no point in us going back there…

\- I need something to help me sleep. And even with that, I only trust Hayato. – The arms released him. – Come on. We have a little more to travel before we reach the portal.

**_12:30_ **

**_30.09_ **

****

Waterfall of…Word ? Sparks ? Lightning ? Light ? Sparks. Cold sparks. A waterfall of sparks rained oved him for a moment and then he felt green under his feet. Only, it was a different…green. Blue-er green. Sharper. Piercing, glassy. Crystal green. He didn’t like it.

\- We’re here. – Eita sighed beside him. He didn’t have even the slightest idea how long they’d been walking, riding and, once, been on a boat, but they had reached their temporary goal. Which he still disagreed with but the other had made his mind long time ago so he just tagged along. It wouldn’t be pretty when Eita’s aspirations fell apart, but he wouldn’t be able to see it anyway.

How…

Callous of him. He had most of…memories. He had some memories. Many memories ? Not enough memories. And he had reached a… He had realised he wasn’t a good man per se. He was cold but not like Eita, and selfish. Hm. He didn’t like this stranger. He definitely didn’t like Kenjiro. Kenjiro was rude and snappy and didn’t always appreciate things. And yet, he found himself slipping into that same stranger’s skin more and more, stretching and pulling at the seams until it was actually starting to fit him. It would never be like a glove, but it was getting almost comfortable.

How very…

Sad. That he’d had the opportunity to become a brand new man, unchained from past and mistakes and poison. And yet, he’d chosen to crawl back into his shell of self-loathing and possessive clinging to the first person who’d shown him some actual attention. What a wasted opportunity.

\- I still think…

\- Yeah, yeah, I know, you disagree. Come on, the faster we finish here, the faster we can find the cleanest train to the Old City. I need a long shower and those compartments are amazing. – Another sigh. – I miss good shampoo.

**_13:10_ **

**_03.10_ **

****

Green. Blue. Crystal clear white. Blinding red.

He could taste them all. He could hear the purples and indigos and cyans. He could feel violet sliding down his hand.

\- I don’t like this. – In response, he got a small laugh from his right where Eita was walking.

\- To be fair…

Go.

Run.

Quick. Now.

Pain in his knee, burn in his ankle.

Run.

Go.

Go.

Go

Go.

Go.

Go.

Go.

Almost…

Ther…

Sharp impact against his ribs.

Everything spinning.

Sick.

He was sick.

He had…

He had to get…

There !

Run…

Pressure on his chest.

Force down on his belly.

The world spinning.

Iron in his mouth.

Blood.

Dripping.

In his.

Eyes.

It burned.

Burned.

Dripped ?

Burned.

He.

Had to.

Get.

There !

Ther…

**_13:54_ **

**_17.10_ **

Warmth. Fire ? He could hear fire. He could almost taste the smoke. And presence. Strange. A stranger. He didn’t like strangers.

\- Rise and shine, Kenjiro. – Ah, here was the familiar. Eita sounded like he was trying too hard to sound light and cheerful. Too bad for him, though.

\- You’re a terrible liar, you know it, right ?

\- He got you there. – There was the stranger. Only…

Word. Word ?

No.

Not a word. It was a…

Name.

Name ?

Yamagata. The stranger’s name was Yamagata. And he was…

He. He was ?

\- Hey, Shirabu. – Oh. That was a part of his name, too, right ? Huh. – Can you do something for me ?

He heard footsteps shuffling around, getting closed. He didn’t want to do anything for this stranger who was…

\- Close your eyes. Semi, the switch. You ready ? – The pause let him know the last bit was for him. He most definitely wasn’t going to close his eyes. Blind. He had always been blind, but he would not surrender…

A cold hand around his arm.

\- I got you. Right here. Come here, Kenjiro. – And then he was being pulled up and in Eita’s lap and this was both warm and cold, and familiar, so familiar. He always smelled green but not like the forest. It was a colder green, sharp ice and freezing water. It went down his throat and up his nose, filling his head and his mind and his lungs and he held on like his life depended on it. – that’s it. Close your eyes. I got you…

Up and down his back, he could feel the touch and he was being held tight, tight, tight, and all he could do was cling to the other because he didn’t know what was going to happen and he didn’t like.

Colour.

Colour ?

Colour.

Colour.

\- Look, Kenjiro. – And then he was being held even tighter.

And then it didn’t matter. Because the colours…They were just…There. He turned to look around the room. It was deep and dark and warm. And then there was the stranger. He still didn’t like the stranger with the dark hair and even darker eyes.

\- That’s the face of a job well done. – And then he had the audacity to grin. The voice gave him away, though. Yamagata. So that’s what he looked like. Good to know.

\- See ? – He looked back up. And then pushed himself away to really get the whole visage of Eita’s face.

He looked just the way he was supposed to. All sharp angles and cold colours. He approved. It was good when people behaved the way they were supposed to. Satisfied with what he was seeing he rubbed his nose in Eita’s collar and waited for someone to speak.

\- I have to say, I expected more of a reaction. – He didn’t care. Not much had actually changed even if he could actually see.

\- Have you forgotten who you’re dealing with ? – His hair was ruffled and he frowned. This place still tasted of smoke and he really didn’t want to be here.

\- Are we going now ? – Silence. He exhaled softly. Great. He’d ruined a moment or something. He would be upset but he really wanted both of them gone. Away. Far. He could feel goosebumps up his arms and it was not something he was enjoying particularly.

Eita just sighed and he felt it more than hearing it.

\- Tomorrow. It’s too dark to be outside. Let’s go and get clean. We can think about what comes next later.

He was fine with that. As long as they left and Yamagata or anyone else didn’t follow.

He knew the colours should have been distracting. He knew he should have been in awe. But for some reason, the feeling wasn’t there. He didn’t really know the names of the colours or shapes or animals whose horns hung on one of the walls, but he was still not impressed.

\- Here we are.

Oh. A pool. In a cave. He looked at Eita. The water was most definitely not steaming. He could see crystals dripping from the low ceiling. All those, and the scent in the air, told him all he needed to know.

\- I am not getting in there. – Eita turned to blink at him. He didn’t know what his expression meant but he didn’t like it. He felt. Scolded. No. Word. Word ? Annoyed ? Closer but not really. Anyway.

\- Kenjiro, it’s been forever…

\- That water’s probably freezing. I am not getting in.

\- Kenjiro… - He sounded disappointed. Not fair. That was not fair. He didn’t like disappointing him. Why would he… - It’s not that cold, come on.

He shook his head. After being cold for so long, he was not getting in the freezing pool.

It was…

Too.

Cold ?

Because Eita had just taken off all the layers he wore on his upper body and he forgot where his thoughts were going.

He was all pale skin and fair hair and scars. Red and ridged and sunken and white. Barbed wire and scratches and melted burns. His movements were not sleek and graceful and measured, he saw. His back was not even or symmetrical. The bones under his skin didn’t match.

\- Have you had those for long ? – The other paused in the middle of unbuttoning his pants.

\- What ?

\- The scars. – He waved a little in Eita’s direction. – Have you had them for long ?

Eita turned to him and, surprise, his front was just as marked at his back. He was…Ribs. He could count ribs and that was not good, and they weren’t even and his hipbones were showing and he didn’t like that, didn’t like it at all, it was wrong, wrong, wrong.

\- Kenjiro, you’ve seen me without my shirt off. – The other sounded concerned but he really didn’t care. Not when he could count every little bone under milky skin and it was distressing him.

\- Possible. But I don’t remember, so answer the question. – He had to focus on that, otherwise he would start. Crying. No. Choking ? Yes. That sounded more like it.

\- What do you mean you don’t…

\- I don’t remember ever having sight. That’s why I told you I’ve always been blind. Answer the question.

\- But if you haven’t actually seen anything, why aren’t you more excited ? – Why was he so hung up on that ?

\- Because I am not. Eita, tell me. – He was getting upset. The Other was evading on purpose and it was wrong, wrong, wrong.

Eita’s eyes narrowed but he didn’t show how displeased he was in any other way.

\- You know I haven’t. Come here, Kenjiro. We don’t have all night. – Oh, so they didn’t ? Too bad.

\- Tell me where they are from or I am not coming in. – He was learning. Eita didn’t like him upset, didn’t like him crying. So he wouldn’t. He would take narrowed eyes or even an eyeroll any day instead of that hurt, no. Not hurt. Word, word, word…

Helpless.

Instead of the helpless expression Eita got when he showed pain. So he wouldn’t.

\- Look, how about we talk tomorrow ? Yamagata told me they are leaving, so we can walk with them for a while. Apparently, we’re headed in the same direction.

\- I am a lot of things, Eita, and most of them are not good. But I am not as dumb as you think I am. Good night. – And then he turned on his heels, heading for the nearest door. He paused for a breath of a second but no call came from the pool. Fine.

Because Eita was hiding something. Whatever was wrong with him, the Other didn’t want him to know. He’d been actively avoiding it. Well. Two could play that game. He’d been in the dark for too long. No more.

Some wandering through the caves later he stumbled upon a door with a note stuck with their names on it. Apparently, luck was with him. The room was clear of anything personal or of value and he could see a thin layer of dust on the heavy wooden furniture.

They were leaving, he remembered. Who was leaving and where were they going ? Actually, where were him and Eita going ? The other seemed to have a plan and direction, but he hadn’t been deemed smart enough to be invited in the conversation. Curling under the paper-thin blanket, he tried to shiver himself to sleep. Everything in this place made his senses go haywire and he couldn’t wait to be gone.

He could feel memories bubble and pop in his ears. Flashbacks slithered and he could feel…sharp pain on his arms where he was protecting his face. Teeth ripping his sides, claws dragging down his back. Sounds, terrible, terrible sounds he couldn’t place, but they came from whatever was attacking him.

Blood in his mouth, warm and slick on his face. The ripping just kept going and going and going, and he couldn’t hear his own screams, what was left for his breathing and he knew he was dead, dead, dead

Dead.

Dead.

Dead.

Dea…

He opened his eyes. In the heavy darkness, he could see the vague outline of Eita’s profile. The other was sitting on the bed, not touching him, and being silent. The moment stretched, with him staring and Eita not blinking, and then he rolled to his side, turning his back on the other. Eita had said “tomorrow”. It wasn’t tomorrow yet.

A few breaths and the bed dipped closer, a cool hand sliding around his waist and under his loose shirt to settle on his stomach. Eita didn’t pull him back to his chest, seemingly happy to just pet him and feel his skin. He allowed it. One never knew what would happen in the next heartbeat and the nightmare was still sticky behind his eyelids. He would take all the comfort he could get.

**_14:07_ **

**_18.10_ **

****

The whole clan was moving out. Eita had pulled him to the side, under an ancient-looking tree, to observe and quietly narrate the process.

\- …and that over there is Goshiki. – The young man he was pointing at had hair with the colour of the deepest night and the energy of a bouncy ball. Kenjiro cocked his head. How did he not unhinge his shoulders ? Or spine ? He was getting vertigo just from watching from the side. Aside from him and the man whose voice he linked to the name “ Tendou Satori”, everyone else was solemn. Quiet. And, because that was Shiratorizawa, quick and efficient. – I can’t believe they really are leaving. The clan’s been here since forever…

Eita sounded…He sounded…Kenjiro sulked in the general direction of the several large cars currently being stuffed with luggage. Sad. No. Almost, but not…Not sad. What was the word… Like he was missing something…No, still wrong. Like he wanted something just out of his reach…He huffed and gave up. Some words would probably never come back. Small price, if he could be honest with himself.

\- Why did you leave ? – The narration paused. And did not start again. Kenjiro turned to look at the other, meeting dark eyes and cold features. Eita crossed his arms slowly, almost like a challenge, but still refused to speak. – Sensitive topic ? You have to say something, I told you you can’t expect me to…

\- If you’re trying to trick me into helping you guilt trip yourself into a shallow grave, you’re not even barking at the wrong tree. You’re in a field of wheat whining at a poppy and thinking it’s a linden tree. – Kenjiro knew his jaw was hanging open but…What had that been ? Tree…Field and…poppies ? What ? Graves and…trees and…fields…? – Don’t give me that look. I said I’ll keep you safe. That includes from yourself.

None of what he’d heard made any sense. He was almost tempted to go and ask the other…ice elves ? Ice elves. But he really didn’t want to talk to them. For some reason they made him…

Feathers.

Feathers ?

Feathers.

They were linked to the feathers. He did not want to risk it, even if he didn’t know what “it” was. He just knew he wanted to be away from them. All of them.

He curled his arm around Eita’s waist and pressed closer, seeking warmth. What he got was a sharp poke in the side. Jumping away with a hiss, he stared at the other trying to understand. The look he got as a response was colder than anything Eita had sent in his direction before. Or at least within the short time his memory had been cataloguing for. And the other just stepped towards the cars, not reaching to catch his hand. He just…

Didn’t understand. What had just happened ? He tapped his fingertips onto his hip, waiting for Eita to turn back and come to get him.

And waited.

\- Coming, Shi-ra-bu ? – Tendou leaned from the Jeep’s open window. – Here, we’ll give you the shotgun seat. Because we’re that generous, aren’t we, Wakatoshi ?

Kenjiro didn’t even register if the clan leader responded in any way because Tendou’s words hadn’t mattered in the long run. Or the short run. He honestly couldn’t care less about anyone from the little group trying to organise itself in the cars, aside from Eita. Who was still keeping his back to him. Of course, all he had to do was wait.

Some time ago, after everything and everyone was in their spot in the cars as neatly as possible, Kenjiro still waited. Back to the tree, he kept his arms loose and his eyes – on the vehicle where Eita had been chatting with Goshiki.

And waited. Everyone was giving him looks when they thought he couldn’t see, whispering and glancing at him, and yet he waited. Whatever those people talked about didn’t matter.

Eita shook his head and walked to him, still not meeting his eyes. Not saying a word, the Other One wrapped his fingers around his wrist and tugged him. Kenjiro followed.

A little later he was perched in Eita’s lap, arms tight around his middle and leaning on his shoulder. He didn’t want to see or hear anyone from the clan. The Other hugged him tighter.

\- So. Semi-semi. Where were you for so long ? – Tendou again.

\- Here. There. – He felt Eita shrug. – Around.

\- I am truly glad you decided to return. – Ushijima. Ushiji…What was he saying ? Kenjiro tried to wiggle and sit straighter to look at the Other’s face but Eita held tight, one cold hand slipping up the back of his neck and fingers curling around his skull. And pressing down, pinning him to the other man’s shoulder and not allowing him to go anywhere.

\- That’s a misunderstanding. – In the following silence Kenjiro could hear every little pebble and crack on the road under the tyres. There was…something. A pull behind his heart. A familiar itch that made him want to…To ? Run. No. It should have made him want to run. But it didn’t. But it should have.

It itched, too. Like his spine was touching rough fabric. He could feel himself reach the point of…Of. Overst…Ove…His skin felt too tight and he had to get to…

He felt it rise from his chest up his throat. And up. Shaking his head, he tried to move away from Eita, away from the people in the car, away, away, away, towards…Towards the thing he had to get to. Now. He had to move and leave and run now. Right now. Right…

Right as Eita pressed him to his own body, Kenjiro screamed.

It zapped his tongue and sizzled in his lungs, burning its way up and down, numbing his fingers. His ribs felt too tight, squeezing his flesh and he had to move, to get away, he had to stop it, he didn’t know why but he had to stop it.

A change of movement made him hiccup into silence. He suddenly realised how…quiet it was. What had that sound been ? He shook his head where he’d been pressing his face into Eita’s shoulder, and felt something wet go down his neck soaking his shirt. Eita’s grip on his waist and hair hadn’t loosened a millimeter. The Jeep was not moving.

His lungs felt bubbly and he could hear his own breathing. Barely choking on air, he tried to focus on everyone else in the car. Nothing. Only…

_Thud._

_Thud._

_Thud._

_Thud._

_Thud._

_Thud._

_Thud._

Their heartbeats on his tongue, pulsing in rhythm with his own, reverberating with the heavy beat between his temples.

Just silence. And then…

\- So it’s true. – Ushijima. – He really is a demon.

He ? Who was this “he” ? Kenjiro settled in Eita’s lap, trying to get a little more comfortable. The cold stickiness down his back was stealing his attention and he almost missed the rest of the conversation.

\- Don’t. – He felt Eita’s words more than hearing them with how they were pressed chest to chest.

\- But he is a demon. Why are you denying it ? – Who was a demon ? He knew, from what little he remembered from…From before. He knew demons were bad and should be avoided. Was there a demon in Shiratorizawa ? Was that why they were leaving ?

Couldn’t the great and mighty clan handle one demon ?

\- Nobody is denying anything. What was that anyway ?

\- Now, Semi. Judging from what we just saw, I think you can tell what it is. Oooh, a text from Yamagata. He says…it was a scout from…somewhere. Huh. Well. The swans got him, though why he thought climbing a poisonous tree to get away was a good idea, we will never know…

Someone had died and fallen from a tree. In that order. He tried to even out his breathing and calm himself. A corpse fad fallen from above. The swans had gotten to them…

\- Eita. – The car went silent. Someone had been trying to start the engine again but they stopped. The world hung suspended and he felt like even the leaves outside were listening carefully.

\- Yes ?

\- What’s a “swan” ? – A beat of quiet, two, two and a half, and then…

A cackling laugh that could only belong to Tendou shook the Jeep. He could _hear_ him try to breathe and fail, and could almost imagine the tear running down his face. It was a full body laughter, mixed with coughs and sniffling, and he couldn’t get out fast enough.

But he still tried.

Kenjiro pushed at Eita’s chest, trying to get up and just…Go. Just go. Be not there.

\- Hey. – That was for him only. Eita breathed it in his ear, ruffling his hair. – Hey, stop. Kenjiro, please, stop.

\- I want…

\- I know. – Did he ? Did he really ? Because he was learning the meaning of the word “humiliation” so fast his head was spinning and he just wanted it to stop. His entire body was shaking and he could feel no strength in his arms whatsoever where he was trying to push the Other away.

\- Let go. I want out. Out, out, out. I don’t want…

\- I know. Hey. – He’d finally managed to lift himself but that gave Eita the opportunity to catch his cheeks in his palms and press their foreheads together. – We will cross the border soon. We will talk to Yahaba Shigeru and then we’re leaving. Okay ?

\- No.

\- Ooooh, he talks back.

\- Tendou, I swear, if you don’t shut up right know, I will not be held responsible for what I will do. – He’d never heard that emotion…Before. It was cold and sharp, and bubbling like lava. He had heard a lot of emotions in Eita’s voice but this was new. He didn’t like it, didn’t like how the Other’s skin grew colder and colder, and on his cheekbone, he could feel talons dig in his skin. Just a little, not enough to pierce skin or even bruise, but they were there. – I swear on my soul, Kenjiro.

\- Promising your soul to a demon, Semi ? What, you’re ready to give everything just because he’s pretty ? Not that he is now, though. No offense, Shirabu. – What demon ? And what soul ? What was going on ? He pushed again, trying to get up, and Eita hugged him.

\- It’s the only thing I own. Why ? Got a problem ? As I was saying, we’re seeing Yahaba and then we’re going.

\- But you would be alone. Why would you leave the clan a second time ? – Ushijima’s words were followed by more silence. The Jeep rumbled back to life and Kenjiro felt the bumps on the road again.

\- Um, senpai… - It was the new kid whose name Kenjiro was sure he’d remembered at some point. Now, it was all fog. – We’re almost at the portal.

\- Everyone, buckle up. – Eita rubbed his back. He nodded, showing he understood. What, exactly, he wasn’t sure, but he understood,

**_20.11_ **

**_15:24_ **

****

\- Here. – He turned. Eita handed him a bottle of water and popped something in his own mouth, chewing with his eyes on the parked cars. They were at a…place by a busy road with some cars and a food…room, and judging by what he was seeing, everyone was taking advantage. He felt his face settle into a frown. Everyone was…eating. He turned to the Other. Eita was eating, too, some sort of a biscuit judging by the colourful wrapper in his hand. He, on the other hand…

He wasn’t.

He knew he had at some point in his life. But not after…After. He had seen Eita chewing on stuff, both when they were going through smaller towns and forests, but it was such a…Such…It was never brought up and it had never been an actual part of their routine, so he’d never stopped to think. The Other gave him cold water all the time but never…food.

And he hadn’t missed it. He had memories of…fog. Hazy impressions not linked to anything, a mess of sensations that didn’t make sense. What had actually happened ? What was he ?

The demon.

Ushijima had called him “a demon”.

But demons were to be feared and despised and killed on sight…

\- Eita. – A soft humming on his right let him know he’d been heard. He didn’t avert his gaze, focusing on the young man with the extremely straight fringe who was bouncing around Yamagata. – What am I ?

\- A banshee. – No hesitation. No change in his tone or heartbeat. No change in his pulse or breathing. A banshee. He tried to go back to…Before. A banshee was one of the mutt breeds. He remembered the term like he’d heard it spoken an hour ago. A mutt breed.

He remembered the girl, too. She’d been with the Tengu clan. Fu…Fuku…It was a long name. And they’d come for a weekend to stay on their territory, to exchange access to their library. The girl had been freezing all the time, he remembered. They all had been. But she’d brought them cake and was nice and cheerful and had seemed like an overall a decent…Not human. A harpy. Cursed creatures, born out of unholy union of demon and human. He remembered the legends, too. That if there was no trickery or force involved, the baby would be all human. So all the different breeds had been a proof that all demons could do was violate. Dirty. Force and pillage and ruin.

Harpies were one of those breeds. The merfolk. Sphinxes. Banshees. He breathed out, slowly. There was no link between the demonic parent’ race and the kind of child the mix would produce. It was random. And while some breeds were pitied, some were treated like second rate citizens and some were too human to ever show any traits, the banshees were one of the few who were…despised.

Because they brought death wherever their wings touched ground.

\- Is that all ? – Eita’s exhale was loud in the pink dawn.

\- Yes. Well, you might be a bit more banshee than most now, but you are still a banshee.

He twisted the words in his mind. Pried them open and inspected the insides. Ran the tone and the smile through whatever tattered memories he had. And reached a conclusion. Evasion.

\- Talk straight, Eita. – This time he got a laugh. A soft, closed-mouth thing, with Eita’s sharp features bathed in soft rosy light from the approaching dawn. The Other glanced to the side, meeting his eyes for a heartbeat, and then shook his head with a little smile.

\- No matter what, you will still be you, won’t you ? – He wasn’t sure if he had to be offended or flattered, so he settled on “staring”. – You’re less human than you used to be before the accident, if that’s what you’re asking. Not that you’ve really been human…Ever.

\- How should I take this ? – Because he really didn’t know. He felt like it should have been insulting to be called “a mutt” but…

\- Definitely not like I am using that vile term to address you. I know you were thinking about it, you got that look on your face. But your energies are much calmer. More…united ? You feel like one being and not like someone fighting Nature with every breath. – Eita shrugged. – It was the only thing I could think of to get you back.

Get him back. Back form where ? He remembered the pain and the growls and the feathers, all the feathers, so many feathers, and the strange crack and pops loud in his ears, and the iron, the iron, the blood slippery in his mouth and on his back and in his hair. But where had he gone after that ?

His memories, if those clear but incomprehensible sensations could even be called memories, were too strange. And from before…the pain, it was a blank slate with something randomly popping occasionally. But nothing concrete to make any sense.

\- Where from ?

\- Hm ? You were dying, Kenjiro. You’ve been dying for months, maybe even years, before that thing with the dogs happened. – Eita closed his eyes and raised his chin like he was trying to soak warmth from the cold morning sky. – That was the last straw. I wanted…If it was really your choice, I wanted it to be made with a clear mind.

And then, because he didn’t have enough emotions to try and untangle, Eita had to murmur something too low to catch.

\- What was that ? – The Other One smiled, though it was…strange. Unnatural. Kenjiro did not like that. Light eyes met his and Eita lightly touched his cheek.

\- I said, quite selfish of me, wasn’t it ? I wanted you to choose to live. So I had to make the situation perfect for you to do it. I admit, I wasn’t thinking much about how you would feel.

His tone, his face, everything was wrong. The emotion was familiar, almost on the tip of his tongue, but like everything from before…Before, it was without context and he couldn’t even put a name on it. He just knew he really did not want to see it anywhere on Eita’s face. Ever. It was making him want to step back and get away.

Before he knew it, he’d gotten two steps away from Eita and the other man let his hand drop slowly, that terrible, terrible expression still on his face.

\- Because one doesn’t just wane away like that if they want to live. To fight. – He cocked his head to the side. Kenjiro really, really, really wasn’t understanding what was going on. Or why the strange smile was slipping from Eita’s face, leaving empty eyes and still lips. – I dragged you kicking and screaming back, Kenjiro. I hope at some point you find it in yourself to forgive me.

The silence dragged. Eita’s empty expression was wilting around the edges. The sun was rising. Laughter was coming from the cars on the side. Eita blinked, crossing his arms, obviously waiting for something.

\- Anything else ? – The Other’s mouth opened but nothing came out. He cocked his head. – Are you alright ?

\- What… - Eita slid a hand over his face and in his hair. And then proceeded to groan in his palms.

\- He drove you to drink yet, Semi ? – Kenjiro couldn’t really suppress the full body shiver that followed the too-close shout from behind him. A thud somewhere below almost captured his attention but he was too busy standing perfectly still and trying to cover his face with…With ? With what ? With…

**_The sky was black, the two moons hanging full and menacing in the complete absence of stars. He didn’t like that, didn’t like the way they looked like they stared and judged and whispered behind closed doors. He might he projecting, he almost laughed at himself. With how everyone was whispering and pointing and making theories up…He was used to it._ **

**_He was good, better than most of them in forcing the element to bow to him. Did it matter that his method was completely different or that it left him exhausted to death every night ? Kind of, but it was nobody’s business. Just was it wasn’t anyone’s business what he did when he left the compound. He was their best scholar and they all just had to deal with his, how did they call them ? Quirks._ **

**_He smiled in the dark. Quirk. That was one was to call it. His skill was legit and he knew the only reason he’d been allowed anywhere near the labs was because they’d tested him more times than his entire class added together back when he’d been studying, and they had found nothing. He was clean. His blood was clean. His back wasn’t but seeing him naked hadn’t been part of the training. Nobody got that privilege._ **

**_Well. Almost nobody. He shook his head. What were they even doing, dancing around each other like blushing teenagers ? Like innocent virgins who’d never felt anything carnal ? Actually, he knew why he was doing it, there was no getting around that, but what was with his greatest enemy/nemesis/rival/boyfriend/friend/mentor/pain in the ass ? Why was he being so careful ? Seriously. They could have gone further last time, definitely._ **

****

**_And then…_ **

****

**_He didn’t hear them come. He didn’t see anything. They should have been obvious, but when he felt the serrated edged of the beak of the first one dig in the soft flesh of his bare forearm, it was already too late. And while he raised his other arm to protect himself, he felt more bite into him, right below his ear, his upper arm, his side where the thin shirt he wore had ridden up…_ **

**_He knew he was on the ground but that was all. How many where there, where did they come from, when were they going to stop…_ **

**_The screeching in his ears was forcing him to stumble upon his thoughts and scrambled his mind. He couldn’t…_ **

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**_Couldn’t._ **

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_White. Lightning. Fire. Salt in a wound. Red-hot knife. Blue flames. Dry winds carrying coarse sands. A desert in his eyes. Poison like ivy, pinning him to the frozen earth. Bones pressing down, caging him in his grave of flesh. Blood spilling slowly, freezing his hair to the soil. Corpses, corpses everywhere._

_Throat broken and bleeding, no voice escaping his torn voice box. No strength to even choke on the life force filling his chest and dripping on the ice. No strength to even breathe, not really. No life to hear anything beyond the screams, both theirs and his own. The ones in his head and the ones in theirs, as they all died. Dark, so very dark, dark behind the trees, dark behind his open eyes. Dark in his broken mind._

He felt like…Like…That had happened before. He was on his back on the back seat of the Jeep, head in Eita’s lap. The Other One smiled softly as he met his eyes.

\- You okay ? – He nodded. Pushing himself up on his elbow, he managed to sit on the free side with minimum vertigo. – Here.

The water was still cold and he almost choked by trying to drink as much as possible, as fast as possible. He wasn’t going to ask what that had been. He knew. He also knew that the sensation of seeing a night sky with two huge moons was a failure on his brain’s side. He didn’t know how the night sky with the two moons looked like. He couldn’t imagine it, couldn’t call even a slither of a memory. He just had the vague impression of the awe he would have felt if he’d seen it. Not that important.

Eita was still smiling at him, still that soft little twist of lips what made his light eyes glow. That was when he realised it was still as dark outside as it had been…before.

\- What time is it ?

\- Early. Go back to sleep. – He sat up. – Why do I even try…

\- Where are we going ? – The Other stared back, features not even twitching.

\- To see the King of Vampires’ healer. – Another healer. Kenjiro pulled his legs up on the seat, leaning his back on the door. Why did they need so many healers ? Eita had insisted so many times on seeing Yamagata and he guessed it had been worth it ? Maybe ? He still didn’t get the whole fuss about sight but it made the Other calm down a little so maybe it was worth it.

But the healer who worked exclusively for the King of Vampires ? He hadn’t heard of the creature, not really, although based on the slips of past Eita had dropped here and there, the man was probably powerful.

\- Why. – He didn’t even make the effort to shape it like a question. Eita seemed to have developed the bad habit of evading those and he was still…unwell from whatever that memory had been. He didn’t feel patient enough to play word games.

\- Kenjiro, do we really have to ? Right here and right now ? – Pale grey eyes met his and this time he didn’t look away. He knew he was in the right and he wasn’t admitting defeat, not without a fight. Let the Other One know even without his memories or all of his senses he still had his willpower. He wasn’t that…

Gone.

He wasn’t that gone.

His mind was coming back in broken shards sharp enough to pierce and fill his mouth with blood, and yet he clung to them, letting the edges rip and cut his gums open, colour his words red and his voice – mirror-cold. He had no idea where it was coming from or where it was going but he had been kept in the dark for too long.

\- No. – He breathed out, still not dropping his eyes. – But I want to. Right here and right now.

\- Oooooh, Shirabu, didn’t know you were that direct…

\- Pull over. – The Other’s sharp order cut Tendou’s laugher in half.

\- Semi, the others don’t know we might be stopping. It would be inconsiderate and downright insulting to stop and make them wait for us. I am certain your conversation can happen in a moving vehicle.

Kenjiro grit his teeth, the sound grating and hurting his own ears. Ushijima sounded so...So. Word. Word ? Word. Calm ? No. Emotion…less ? No. Word…Un…dis…turb…ed ? Yes. That was right. He sounded…that. And it was really making him remember his first lesson in humiliation from…From. Burn in his eyes, burn in his throat.

The others. Always the others. That’s what Ushijima had always been about, hadn’t he ? The others. The man had insisted on keeping the advisor he had inherited for the greater good, on following said advisor’s words because his predecessor had somehow made them work so it had to be the way, on turning a blind eye on his clan’s venomous words and glares. Because they were all so much better than anyone else, weren’t they ? And so they would be held to a different set of rules. For the greater good.

Great minds came from Shiratorizawa, didn’t they ? So they couldn’t be contained but also couldn’t be set free. The mold was tight and unyielding, iron grip on discipline and learning. And that was their downfall. Always had been. They relied on old techniques to create new concepts and it worked but oh so slowly. Oh so tediously.

Yet, because it had worked before…Before. Long…Before. Because of that, Shiratorizawa kept going in the same direction. Trying something new never guaranteed success, after all. And they were all about hedging their bets. Ice elves were set in their ways, as cold and slow to form, shape and change as the glaciers surrounding their kingdom from three sides.

And Ushijima had done exactly what all of the leaders before him. Put the “greater good” on a pedestal without even asking greater than what was that good and why it was so amazing. Or if there wasn’t something even more incredible. No, he had just followed the same steps and gotten the same results. They had all been so proud…So proud.

So…

Proud ?

Proud ?

Who was proud ?

What ?

\- Kenjiro…

Soft cold close to him, cool lips on his cheekbone.

That was wrong. No. It was all wrong.

Who was…The advisor ? The advisor. There was something about the advisor, he just knew it.

Right there, on the tip of his tongue.

Oh.

He didn’t exist.

Just like the birds.

Well. That made things a little easier.

The car stopped. Eita gave a sharp nod and he crossed his arms. What ? Was he supposed to go running every time someone crooked a finger ? Because he had no idea who he was but that was something he felt etched on his bones. He would not…

\- I swear, you haven’t changed a bit…Move. – He knew he was staring back with his mouth hanging open but...He didn’t like that tone. Not at all. Orders, like he was a dumb animal jumping through hoops. Who did Eita think he was, a full blood demon, summoned by a sorcerer to bow down to every whim ? – Kenjiro, you wanted to talk ? We can talk. We can talk as long as you want, to the end of time and then some if you fucking insist but first guess what ? You need to get out of the fucking car so these gentlemen can proceed with their extremely fucking important and not at all pointless mission !

The last bits were almost shouted in his face and he felt his ribs press down his lungs, chest tight and growing tighter.

He wasn’t…Wasn’t…Word. Word. Word…Fear ? No, a little more…Afraid ? Yes. He wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t…Shocked. It was just…

He knew the language the Other One had just used was unusual, based on the frozen expressions of the other passengers in the car. And the tone…Eita had never shouted at him, not like that. He didn’t…enjoy it. It wasn’t pleasant. Yet he could still…form words. And shapes.

His mind was not running on the same spot, looking for escape. He could still think. He could…think.

\- What if… - He stopped. What if what ? What was he trying to say ? He…didn’t know. He’d started too quickly and now his words had abandoned him. And not just them. He simply had no idea where to go from there. How was he supposed to…To…Word ? Word. Supposed to…? Um.

\- Just open the door and take a step outside. I will be with you and then we can sort it out, okay ?

The tone was different again. The sudden changes were giving him a headache and he was learning to not like those at all. Eita was being soft again and he could only reach behind and unlock the door without turning his back to the Other.

It took a bit of navigating and he was almost disappointed that Tendou didn’t make some stupid comment because then he would have had a good reason to let his…His…Anger ? No. His…fear ? Definitely not. His…feeling manifest outside of his mind and that would be nice ? Maybe ? Emotions, their causes and consequences didn’t really make much sense so he gave up on untangling them for now. He would try again…later. Maybe. If they behaved.

There was no grass under his feet, only hard and hot cement. Still, he was careful, not leaving the Other escape his sight. Just in case.

Just in case of what he wasn’t sure but it was important. Maybe. Probably ? No. Maybe.

But Eita just got out of the opposite side and slammed the door closed, muffling the curses echoing inside. Tendou was unhappy with the possible damage on the car, some tiny part of his mind supplied. Not his problem. At all.

The Other walked around and, without looking at him, headed for the few table scattered in the sun by the…station café ? No. How did Goshiki call it…Gas station café.

Yes. That was it.

Much better.

He followed.

Not much choice.

Eita dropped on one of the benches and propped his chin on a palm. Kenjiro stopped by the table, trying not to frown. The Other One had shouted at him, had cursed him. He wasn’t sure if he really wanted to sit down.

\- Kenjiro, please.

\- I can talk like that. As our powerful leader said… - Eita leaned back on the back, face losing whatever softness had crept there during the minute it had taken them to get to the café. – What ? That’s what everything is about, right ? You want to go to the healer for… - He still had no idea so he skipped over it. – whatever and then we’re going back to Shiratorizawa ?

Eita didn’t say anything. Just pointed at the bench across from him. Kenjiro waited for another small eternity and then sat down, barely putting weight on the edge of the seat. He had no intention of getting comfortable. Or of staying that long.

For some reason the very thought of spending longer than what he just had with the ice elves made his skin feel inside out, rough fur burning through delicate nerve endings and sandpaper a millimetre away from his eyes. Slim spiders dancing over bared spine, reaching between vertebrae and curling around ribs. Things with many, many, many legs crawling on the inside of his breastbone.

\- We are not going back to Shiratorizawa. Whether you choose to stick around me or not…It’s up to you. I refuse to chain you or lock you inside or, or…or trap you. – He shrugged, lashes dipping to hide light eyes. – Not doing that again. So, even if you go, I’m still not going back.

\- They are your people ? – He had gone for a…not question but the huge empty space that was his memory didn’t allow him to be certain about anything. The only things that really mattered were here and now. There was no past, there had never been. After all, the universe destroyed itself and rebuilt again every single moment. The only thing that existed were the memories of the past, said past long time ago turned to dust. While his memories were damaged, that didn’t give him any less past than everyone else. It was comforting.

\- Are they ? – Eita ran a hand through his hair, messing the pale strands even more. – Do you know what are they ?

\- Ice elves. – The Other gave a small nod though it looked directed more to himself than at Kenjiro.

\- And me ?

\- Same. Full blood.

\- Does the fact that you know all this but have no idea how what you are works bother you ?

\- Should it ? – He wasn’t trying to argue. If what Eita had said was true, he was a banshee. A demon. Which meant he would simply have to learn again how to live as one. There weren’t that many options unless he chose to give Tendou the satisfaction of jumping off of a really high cliff and aim for the sharp rocks below. And he wasn’t at that point yet.

\- Most people would probably be upset if they don’t fully comprehend what they are, so yes. It should.

\- You said I’m not human. –The expression he received he didn’t even try to find a word for because he knew it would be pointless but he could only compare it to…To…He had seen it, probably when he had been really young. Maybe ? It wasn’t a bad expression but it wasn’t good, either. There was no tension in his muscles, face smooth, and yet he didn’t look happy. Not angry, but not glad.

Maybe those memories had some use, after all.

\- Stop putting words in my mouth. I’ve never said that and I also didn’t mean it like that. And I know you’re being a brat on purpose.

Was he ? “Brat”. He turned the word in his mind, looking for a connection to something. Anything. The closest he got to an answer was the thin impression of a vague memory of…a voice too familiar calling him that.

\- You’re the only one who has ever called me that.

\- Of course, everyone else who saw it was too terrified of you and those who weren’t you were always nice to. Guess I was just lucky that way. But. – He carefully dropped his palm on the table. – You wanted to talk. I’m all yours.

He felt like he was being joked with.

\- We’re going to see the King of Vampires’ healer. – Eita nodded. – Why ?

\- You know his name ? The healer ? – What kind of a question was that ? He frowned. Was he supposed to know the name of the man ? Just to humour the Other One, he tried to think past the abstract concept of a vampire healer and towards this specific vampire healer.

Static around the edges of his vision, closing in on white background. More static. If he tried only a little more, he could almost hear the buzzing and low hum. This time it wasn’t like a memory almost there, this time there was…nothing.

\- Not funny.

\- Oh ?

\- I’m pretty sure I’ve never met him. Weren’t you going to give me answers or something ?

\- I wasn’t being funny. He knows you. The two of you hate each other. – Another slight shrug. – People speculated you were in a relationship since you were fifteen.

He could only…Not do much. Forcing his lungs to actually work, he opened him mouth. Thought about it. Closed it.

What ?

\- That’s not… Why ?

\- I know it’s not true, you’re pure as snow. – Was he ? - But the two of you argued so much that everyone thought it was your way of flirting.

\- Why would I treat someone I want to be with like that ?

\- Because we need to change the topic. Now. Next question.

\- You can’t just…

\- Next question. You must be curious about other things.

Kenjiro decided to choose his battles. For now. The Other One obviously knew things about his past that he didn’t want to share and he would let him off the hook. For now. He wasn’t done.

\- Why him ? If he hates me that much ?

\- He’s the best. Not very old but doesn’t have much self-preservation when it comes to experiments. That’s why he’s gotten so far. – Made sense. A vampire willing to get his hands really dirty ? That was a recipe for success if he had ever seen one.

\- Last one. – Eita’s face twisted in a half smile that, again, didn’t look very genuine. – Why do we need a healer ?

\- For your wings. If you’re going to be leaving me, I want you to be…

\- No. – That was one of the very few things he was absolutely certain, even if the reason as to why was not clear in his head. He didn’t even want to hear that word…or imagine what it involved. – No. Just. No.

Eita frowned, lips curling with confusion.

\- You don’t have to promise you won’t go, Kenjiro, I can…

\- Not that. The…other. Thing.

\- The…wings ? – The confusion was complete. Good.

\- That. Yes. – The Other One tapped a finger on the table, light frown still between his brows.

\- Can you explain what you mean ? – Wasn’t it obvious ?

\- No ? I just don’t…want…that.

\- You don’t want your wi…

\- No. – Eita leaned back again, eyes seemingly tracing his features. Kenjiro let him. It wasn’t like he was trying to hide something. Actually, he was hoping the Other One would read his mind and never raise the topic…Ever again. That would be the most perfect solution.

\- They are a part of…

\- No.

\- Kenjiro, there is no need for you to hate your nature. It’s not your fault you’re a demon.

\- I..what ? I don’t ? I am what I am, what are you even saying ?

Now they were both confused, Kenjiro could tell. The Other One was blinking at him, mouth slightly open, and he was sure he wasn’t looking much better.

Why was Eita talking about him hating himself or his nature ? True, he couldn’t explain the way his ribs had felt and his throat had hurt when the stranger had died right before dropping on their car, but it had been because he had been surprised. It didn’t seem like such a complicated thing to master. And he was sure that if he was a demon, he probably had some sort of powers. Eita had even mentioned him settling into his skin and feeling more like one cohesive being, so why would he hate himself ?

There were vague impressions of past events and conversations, of words that felt bloodless and dead, closer to a text in a book than actual voices and something he had taken part in. But he…knew demons were bad news. And if there was a reason for that maybe he wasn’t as helpless as he thought he might have been.

Though the very air still made his skin crawl more often than not. But there was hope. And Eita seemed adamant he would be getting his memories back. Not that he was excited about that bit, but he could let the Other hope.

He really, really didn’t want his past back. Whatever had happened, whoever he had been, he had the feeling he would hate him.

And yet…

And yet he kept going back to that one person whose body he was occupying right now, kept falling into the stranger’s habits and patterns and words. He didn’t want to.

The memories wouldn’t do anything either way, he was sure of it. He didn’t feel their absence, just as he hadn’t felt the lack of sight. Now that his eyes were working ? He couldn’t be less impressed. So much fuss for nothing. His past was probably the same. Not impressive, not important, and he obviously didn’t need it to become the spiteful creature he had been before…whatever had happened that Eita was avoiding to talk about.

He was going to try to be better but apparently it was going to be difficult.

For now, he would follow the stream and see where it took him. Or, more precisely, he would follow the Other and wait.

\- You… You know what ? – And didn’t that sound like he was giving up ? – We can go and see Yahaba, and then we can figure it out from there. How does that sound ?

He didn’t even have to pause to think about it.

\- Bad. – Again with the surprise. Who had Kenjiro Shirabu been in the past that more or less any reaction was surprising Eita ? And…He cocked his head. What had they been to each other ?

He hadn’t thought about this before but…Eita had left the clan. There had never been anything mentioned about he himself being the reason but now he had to wonder. From the others’ words they made it sound like he’d just left one day and hadn’t said anything about not going back. How…long had the Other stayed with him ? And why ?

Hm…

No. He still didn’t want those memories. He could figure stuff out by himself. Or make Eita tell him.

\- Just a conversation, then. With him. – He shook his head.

\- Why are you so… - So…Word. Word ? Word. So… What came after…

\- So what ?

\- Doesn’t matter. You can just forget about it. Not impo…Imp.

\- Important ?

\- That. We can just not waste time ?

\- You in a hurry ? – The Other One had the…He dared to curl his lips in the palest shadow of a smile and for the first time Kenjiro was glad to have sight, because now he could link the annoying tone to an expression and react in the right way.

\- I don’t want my memories or… - He didn’t even dare to fully form the word in his mind before rushing through the rest of the sentence. – that back, so I don’t understand why we would go and bother someone who you seem to think hates me.

Eta’s expression grew complicated again. The man honestly shifted between faces so quickly Kenjiro was getting…Tired. No, that wasn’t it. Word. Denied. He was getting tired of…Of…Of trying to decipher…? Yes, that was a good one. He was getting tired of trying to decipher them. It wasn’t productive, didn’t go anywhere and only wasted time. This meant that the obvious solutions was…

\- Can you say what you mean ? – And, there it went again. He was getting…What was it…

\- Kenjiro, I literally didn’t say a word.

\- Exactly. Your face just gets weird. – Now he looked…scandalised. Oh. He could name at least a few, then. Progress.

\- My what gets what ? How did you even make such a leap of…topics ?

\- Your face gets weird when you think about…Things. – He waited for a response but The Other One was just staring at him with his mouth slightly open. – You have to say what you are thinking about when you do it. So I would know.

\- You… - He rubbed his face again. Kenjiro narrowed his eyes. Actually, Eita seemed to be doing that a lot around him. He wasn’t sure what it meant. He would, if The Other told him. Now that made perfect sense and all he had to do was show him how logical the solution was and how much easier their lives would get.

\- You were saying something ?

\- I actually can’t believe you’re being serious. Because you aren’t. Right ? Tell me you’re joking. This is all one big elaborate prank and you’re messing with me on purpose.

Kenjiro was…He tried to name the silence in his head and the shaking of his hands, and he couldn’t. It was almost there, on the tip of his tongue, but he still couldn’t fully grasp it. So he did the same thing he did with the rest of the words that refused to come – he stopped trying and moved on to cataloguing the sensations one by one.

He could hear his own heartbeat which didn’t make him feel better. There was a disturbing quiet in the place where his mind was usually trying to piece everything together. He tried relaxing his hands on his hips and yet he could still see his fingers lightly twitch, completely out of his control. It wasn’t fair, he realised in a strangely clear moment. Definitely wasn’t fair that he got to get this…meat and bone structure already used and partially amortised, and not even have control over it.

The silence inside matched the one outside, with Eita’s frown and tight lips only making his hands shake even more.

And because neither his emotions nor The Other’s made sense, he tried again.

\- I don’t understand what you mean.

Eita curled his lips in a half grimace, crossing his arms. Kenjiro didn’t continue. He had asked a fully sensible question and Eita had no reason to just go off like that. Why would he accuse him of being so needlessly annoying on purpose when they had been talking about important…future plans, and he had simply been trying to make the conversation even better ? He would not be the one to give explanations on this one. It was not his fault The Other was distracted or…whatever his deal was, and couldn’t answer a simple question.

The Other One’s face didn’t change. Didn’t twitch. He wasn’t even blinking. And then…

\- Kenjiro, what I am feeling right now ? – He knew he was blinking in…whatever it was called but that had been exactly what he’d been talking about for a while now and it was getting tiring.

\- I asked you to explain and yet you think that if you ask me I will suddenly, out of nowhere, get the knowledge transported into my head ? I might have magic but I’m pretty sure that’s outside of my skillset.

\- Because you can’t… - The Other One sighed, dropping his face to the table. Kenjiro waited, distracting himself with watching the cool light dance over Eita’s pale hair.

Somewhere, a bird chirped and he realised his hands were not shaking anymore. Writing it off as another strange anatomical whim, he kept tracing the mix of ashy pale and black strands in the cold sunlight with his eyes. What if…

Eita was still…doing whatever he was doing with his face hidden in his arms, and he was getting bored with the whole scenery. Surely, The Other wouldn’t really mind if he just…

\- Just do it. – He froze. Eita hadn’t moved, hadn’t lifted his eyes or did anything, really, to show he was paying attention to his surroundings. He just looked…Word. Word ? Word. Not important. He didn’t look good and yet he had reacted with suspicious precision when Kenjiro’s fingers had been about to lightly touch a messy strand of hair that was sticking out just so. Which led to the current moment where he was half up from his bench, hand hanging right above Eita’s head, not daring to even breathe.

\- Look, I’m not mad or anything and you’re starting to look weird. Do it, it’s fine.

Was it, though ? He pulled his hand back, sitting down slowly. After such a strong reaction to a simple question, he didn’t dare trust words alone. Since, apparently, he couldn’t understand what was left unsaid and that upset Eita. He crossed his arms, digging short nails into the flesh of his palms.

Grey eyes met his, The Other propping his chin onto his palm. His face was…another thing he couldn’t name right now so he waited.

\- You asked me to tell you what I think, correct ? Well, I am doing it. It’s okay to touch me any way you want at any moment you want. Whatever reaction I might have, it wouldn’t be because the physical contact was unwelcome, okay ?

He didn’t nod. The question seemed misleading and he’d already been shouted a few of those only a little while ago. He wasn’t playing that game again.

\- I will take this as a sign you’re considering it and go from there. Now. You don’t want your wings or your memories back, and it has nothing to do with you having issues with what you are. Why, then ?

\- I am just fine without memories. – Eita raised an eyebrow. Then seemed to catch himself and quirked his lips in a small half smile.

\- You might not know it, but I’ve spent long time paying attention to your face. You’re lying. Just thought I’d let you know. How about the other thing you don’t want to mention ?

\- I just… - He waved a hand in the general direction of the air surrounding them. – Because of that.

He knew only one way to put it into words and that was to straight up say he didn’t want to. And since he’d already tried that, there was nothing else. So he waited.

\- That. Okay. – Eita nodded lightly. – How about we go, see Yahaba and just have him check you ? Not asking for anything back. Just your body and how well your powers have blended after, well, you know.

He could have pushed but The Other was being accommodating and seemed to be making an effort so he just shrugged, curling into himself a little. Eita waited. It was up to him.

Did he want that ? Not really, but there was no reaction from whatever was left from his brain against the idea so maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. And The Other had kept his promises so far meaning he had no reason not to trust him. Still.

\- You said he hated me.

\- Nor really. The two of you just matched perfectly. Like gasoline and a lit candle.

\- Sounds bad.

\- It was something, alright. That’s why everyone thought you had a thing going on.

Kenjiro listened to the birds chirping on the table next to theirs for a moment.

\- Why would I be that terrible to someone I care about ?

The silence he got was worse than any answer Eita could have given him. Any.

And it made him really not want his memories back.

What kind of a man had he been, for people to think it normal that he would behave like he hated his significant other ? What had he been doing ?

\- It was never really malicious, you know, You and him were just too similar and tended to wind each other up instead of calming. That’s all, whatever you’re thinking about is not true.

\- Since when can you read minds ?

\- Since I met you when you were fourteen and a brat. It was the only way to navigate around interactions with you at that moment.

Kenjiro wasn’t sure what was on his face but when the Other One looked back at him, he dropped the smile.

\- It wasn’t…Kenjiro, you are a good man now. And you used to be just as good all those years ago. You were just a little abrasive, that’s all. And now, you’re trying hard to be better, I can see it. So it’s fine. – He cocked his head. – People grow and develop throughout their entire lives. What makes you think that being a demon excludes you from that ? You’re going to suffer with the rest of us. Now, you want to see Yahaba ? It will be hilarious to see him try to be nice to you.

\- Not helping, Eita. – A shrug, and then the Other One got up, catching his wrist and tugging him towards the little shop in the gas station.

\- Wasn’t trying to. First, let’s get you some water and then we can head out. We’re actually really close and should get there within the hour, if we don’t walk too slowly.

The city was buzzing in the early evening and Kenjiro was squeezing The Other’s hand only a little. Darkness had almost fallen and they were walking down the busy street, with him pretending not to see the way people stared at them. Were they that alien ?

He tried to look around as subtly as possible. The two of them appeared appropriately dressed, with dark pants and soft…sweatshirts ? No ? They had zippers and…Hoodies. In warm hoodies, though he had the suspicion they didn’t really need them, Another thing he didn’t like was the sheer mix of energies flowing down his tongue. There was a permanent itch down his spine all the way to his hips that he didn’t appreciate and everything was putting him on edge. Eita held his fingers just as tightly though his face betrayed nothing. Just the casual calm one would show when out for a walk in a cool but not too cold early evening. And he was absolutely sure this was not The Other One’s face when he was actually out for a quiet walk in the evening because…

Because ?

Because he knew,

How did he know it ?

Not important. It would either come back or it wouldn’t.

What mattered was that Eita was pretending to be calm and it was setting him even more on edge.

\- The clan is already here. – He looked up. The Other One was still looking straight ahead, finger tight on his and if he hadn’t heard his voice that clearly, Kenjiro would have thought he’d imagined the whole thing.

As to what he had said…

\- So ?

\- So we might have problems. If you and Yahaba had this weird dynamic which will be even weirder because you don’t know how to do that anymore, the Vampire King here hates Ushijima with the kind of burning passion that people would never suggest hides romantic feelings.

Oh. And people would be able to tell they, or at least Eita, was close to Shiratorizawa. And it might become…

The vibrations that rose from the cement made him trip and Eita’s hand tight on his elbow was the only thing that saved him from dropping on the sidewalk. What was…

The glass display in the shop they were in front of was cracking and people were staring. At the tow of them. Like they were the ones destroying property. Like they were about to call the mob, with their…

Stop.

Make it stop.

Make it stop.

It had to stop.

He didn’t want to do that again.

Pitchforks and knives and guns…

Smoke in his eyes, burning down the tears, skin sizzling and dripping down his cheeks.

Stop.

He didn’t want.

That.

Any.

More.

Somewhere, a howl pierced the air and his vision buzzed into darkness.

Blue. Blue and purple, with little sparks of silver.

The air tasted like midnight.

And the midnight looked like a map.

\- So sleeping beauty is finally awake, huh ?

He was laying on his back, he realised. On what felt like hard wood in the middle of an…observatory ? A mad scientist’s den ? A…drug addict ? the jars and bottles on the cluttered shelves weren’t helping.

Still.

His back hurt, probably from the hard wooden surface, and his head was pounding.

\- Never thought I’d see you hungover, especially without getting you hammered first. A waste, if you ask me.

He turned slowly.

The man who’d spoken looked at him with a raised eyebrow, light hair short and sleek and artfully swept to the side. Kenjiro held the gaze and waited. Whoever that was, he obviously knew him from before and Kenjiro was quickly developing the habit of being suspicious of those people. He was at disadvantage, on his back in a strange place and Eita…

Hadn’t left him alone. The Other One flipped the page of the glossy magazine he was holding, smiling at him for a moment before returning his attention back to whatever he was reading.

\- What…

\- That was actually amazing. – Eita dropped the magazine on the side table. The stranger’s eyes darted to him and Kanjiro felt better now that he wasn’t stared at with such curiosity. – I can’t...Do you remember what just happened ?

The lilt in the end made him think The Other One was expecting an answer. Which he had to think for a moment about.

They were obviously safe or, at least, what Eita perceived as safe since he wasn’t reacting to the strange place or the strange man with the light eyes and light hair and seemingly perpetually sceptic expression.

\- People were staring. I don’t… - Kenjiro glanced at the stranger. He really didn’t want to say more, not only because he didn’t know who or what the man was, but also because he needed to think about it a little. About why people staring made him want to throw up. And why the visual of a stranger taking a step towards him with any kind of intention in their eyes made his back burn as if red hot needles were being slowly pushed in until they reached bone And then some. He would have thought he had bled and broken but the table beneath him was dry and his skin felt fine. So maybe.

Whatever that had been.

Had not been.

Real.

He still didn’t want to talk about it in front of whoever that was, though. Definitely not.

Maybe he would tell Eita some day. In the far future. When the very thought of hands on him that didn’t belong to the one currently meeting his eyes with a steady confidence didn’t make him want to decapitate something.

\- After the staring ?

\- The air tasted like blue.

\- Blue ? – The stranger was frowning from his stool.

\- And purple. And a little bit of silver.

\- Night sky ? – He looked back to Eita. Because of course The Other One understood. Of course he did. He was only a little off this time, though.

\- Midnight.

\- Midnight. – Why did whoever that was keep insisting on intruding on the conversation ? Kenjiro pushed himself up to sit on…Yep. It was a bare wooden table. No wonder every vertebrae felt cramped and the skin over his spine was probably all bruised up. – How the fuck does the air taste like midnight ?

Now that was rude. He frowned back. Swearing at him on the first time he was meeting Kenjiro ? No wonder the Vampire Kind’s domain was surrounded by lawless gangs if that was when someone obviously rich and influential, based on the furnishing, behaved like.

So he did the smart thing and ignored the blond…creature, focusing back on Eita instead.

\- And nothing inbewteen ? – Why was he so adamant on that ?

\- No.

The Other One shook his head and laughed, the low sound warming the cold stone of the room.

\- Only you, I swear. – He blinked but Eita didn’t elaborate. – This gentleman here is Shigeru Yahaba. He kindly agreed to give you a quick check if we promised to get out of his castle the moment he’s done.

\- Not what I said but whatever. – Yahaba was…Kenjiro tried to rack his memories for anything related to this man. Anything. The face, the name…The weird laboratory they were in…The tight bandage that ran up both his legs from the ankles up…

It was the same as the previous time.

Nothing.

He would have called it a joke but Eita probably wasn’t in the mood for those right now. Probably. So he waited for the vampire to say something and give him something to latch on.

\- You really have no idea who I am ? – The tone was almost distrustful and Kenjiro really wasn’t in the mood for that.

\- I know you’re a vampire. Young and kind of suicidal. Dabble in too many demonic arts. Read your horoscope from seven different sources every day and then build yourself a summary that you later write down and keep forever. No idea what’s the reason for the bandages, - He nodded towards the man’s legs. – but it was probably your fault.

Eita was smirking again, that sideways crooked smile that told him he was being more than entertaining but that it wasn’t on his back. Yahaba, on the other hand, looked stressed, with his twitching eyelid and frown. It really didn’t suit his objectively pretty face.

\- Anything else ? – The vampire got up with a groan and limped towards him, picking something from one of the overcluttered tables.

\- Look up. I’ll make it quick.

Kenjiro didn’t. Look up, that was. The stranger was almost dismissive, obviously unhappy that what ? Kenjiro had noted his entire wall of horoscope readings ? Or that he’d been right about the attack or whatever had happened being his fault ?

\- Kenjiro, it’s fine. – Eita’s smile softened. – I’m here and not letting him do anything you don’t exclusively agree to.

It had to be enough, he guessed.

\- Only check.

Up that close, Yahaba’s eyes were…wrong. He wasn’t sure if it was the clit pupils or the heavy distrust, but he wasn’t enjoying being in such a low position. Maybe he could…

\- Lie back down. This is harmless but you’re still pale as a corpse. If you fall and split your skull, I’ll have to throw my carpet away. And you’re not that special.

Talk about undeserved. What was Yahaba’s problem anyway ? He was supposed to be a healer, was this how he treated his patients ? And people had thought he’d been intimate with that…man ? Or that he’d been similar to him in temper ?

That was just sad. And horrifying. But mostly sad. What did he have on Eita for him to feel that indebted to him to stay by his side for that long ? And, if Eita knew he didn’t remember and had no access to his blackmail materials, why was he still around ?

Unless…

He frowned, barely noting Yahaba’s clipped order to close his eyes and lay still. Something cold and metal covered his eyelids but his mind was running.

Unless The Other One did not believe he didn’t remember.

Why else would he stay around for he didn’t even know how long, taking care of him, wasting his life and friendships ? What did he have on him ?

Had they made a bet a Eita lost ?

Or was his demonic nature so strong they had made a deal ?

Something Tendou said rose to the surface. He’d asked Eita if he was…Promising his soul to a demon. And Eita had said he didn’t have anything else.

He tasted ash and iron, the realisation he was alive because of some monstrous contract he’d forced a good man into burning down to his stomach.

\- Don’t…move… - Why ? Yahaba sounded like he was barely breathing but did it really matter ? Obviously, Eita had gotten him to help, probably giving more of himself in the process. More of what he didn’t have.

He clenched his fist, nail digging into his hand.

It was up to him, wasn’t it ? Whether he wanted to keep The Other One close forever or release him from the contract. It was fully within his power, even if he wasn’t sure what, exactly, this power was.

He would do it.

He made a promise to Eita he would never speak out loud.

That the moment he could function on his own…

He would break the bond.

He would find a way.

He would.

\- Done. You can get up now. – And then the metal was gone, Yahaba’s…presence getting further away from him. The vampire was fully silent in his territory but Kenjiro could feel him. Just as he could feel the unique white blue of Eita’s…everything.

Opening his eyes, he was met with the same view as he had the first time. Yahaba was shuffling by one of the tall wardrobes, putting stuff away, and Eita was right beside the table with his hand ready to help him get up. How very…

Disgusting.

Kenjiro pushed himself up and let his feet drop to the carpeted floor, taking the hand in his. He would release him… when he was stable enough to be on his own.

So that’s what they had all meant, then. About him being a terrible person. A demon. It explained why everything he learnt about who he had been in the past made him want to disappear into the void. Because he had been a vile creature and now…Now he was doing the same.

Eita was warm and alive beside him, and he wanted to run away. Too bad he couldn’t really do that. Not yet.

\- What’s the verdict ? – Yahaba murmured something under his nose and then turned back, leaning on the wardrobe.

\- You’re fine. – Well, that told him…nothing. – Your spine was damaged beyond repair which means that even if there was an easy way for you to get your wings back, actually using them would take forever to relearn, it would hurt and there would always exist a possibility for your to straight up break said spine if you did some slightly strange maneuver. Also, if you want those back, even if you won’t be using them, you’ll have to take someone else’s. It’s a complicated ritual and it doesn’t have to be voluntary so if you ever feel like doing that, let me know. I’d get you the instructions and then forget I ever knew you since, well, you’d have clans coming for your life if you steal some poor soul’s wings.

Yahaba tapped his lip with a pen, eyes in the empty space like he was checking a list.

\- What else, what else… Your energies are much better than they were in the past so I’d recommend you try to relearn your skills because I am honest enough to know you were good, even if you were more than annoying. It would be a waste to lost all that. Body’s fine, overall…Oh, and your memories are not hidden or locked. Not by a spell, not by a trauma, not by your own mind.

Wait, what ?

\- Explain. – Yahaba glanced at Eita for a moment.

\- They are gone. What happened at Sawamura’s shop and before that, those flashbacks from long time ago ? Leftover shadows of real memories. The rest is gone. You head’s a mess, by the way. How do you even understand all those signals from your senses ? I’d gone mad by now if it were me. Either way, there will be no recovering anything since it doesn’t exist.

\- Is it possible for someone to have stolen those ? – The vampire shook his head.

\- There would be a trace. I guess whatever happened just…did that. – Yahaba turned back to him. – Oh, and whatever ritual aligned your energies and formatted your save points – What ? – has nothing to do with that. They were decaying long before that and fully disappeared after the…thing you did. The two are not linked, I guarantee it. Which means that this mess of guilt over here, - And he nodded towards Eita who blinked and opened his mouth to respond. – can chill. You didn’t do that. It started with that thing with the swans and from then it was a process that maybe could have been stopped but I am guessing you were unconscious in the time that could have been done and it would have been impossible for anyone to know you had this kind of damage. By the time you woke up the first time, it was already too late to stop. Now. Anything else I can do for you ?

They were sitting on a bench in a park, watching people and Eita eating ice cream. Kenjiro had taken one look at it and the very thought of putting anything like that in his mouth made him gag. Eita hadn’t offered and he was glad because he was sure his violent refusal wouldn’t be appropriate for the situation.

\- Now that was a pile of exposition if I had ever heard one. – He turned to look to the side but The Other One’d eyes were on two young men studying a rather uneven rose bush, one of them on his knees and the other on his back on the other side, looking at the plant from below.

\- I guess. – In the moonlight he was appreciating the lines on Eita’s face and the almost-glow of his pale hair when the desire to just…touch rose again. He didn’t reach out this time, though. He knew it wasn’t his right. Or, no. It was obviously his right from what he’d seen and what Eita had told him here and there, but that didn’t mean he had to abuse it. Or go further than strictly necessary.

\- Does that change anything ?

\- Hm ?

Eita turned to meet his eyes.

\- I know you didn’t want answers but did that explain stuff or help or…?

Did it ? Kenjiro leaned back on the bench.

\- Not really. But I didn’t have any questions to begin with so there can’t be any answers.

\- The paths your logic takes are amazing. Honestly. – And that was it. Eita bit into his scoop of ice cream and chewed thoughtfully to what looked like sheer terror of the several bystanders who were walking around. Why couldn’t people mind their own business anyway ?

\- Now what ? – He had to know to be able to make his own plans in the best way possible. His time with The Other One was running out, a ticking clock going faster and faster now that Yahaba had confirmed he was okay. It was only a matter of time before he would have to break whatever contract was binding them together.

He would be sad, he thought. Maybe. Or maybe he was a creature who could just let things go and not ever look back. Maybe he was that cold. He was about to learn, he guessed.

\- Now… Honestly ? I don’t know. Go somewhere nice where people would not be so terrible, start again. If you want to, of course. As I said before, you are free to go on your own at any given moment. I won’t have you feel tied up to me. But if you’d like to stay…

And didn’t that sound good ? Start on a clean slate, new place, new people. Away from anyone who had ever known him, away from all the people who kept expecting him to be terrible and then judge him when he was trying to be better. He kept Eita in his peripheral vision. And then, when he was stable enough on his own feet, he would release the other man from whatever obligations were keeping them together.

That sounded like a solid plan.

\- Here. – He turned more on a reflex than anything. Eita had put the cup with ice cream on the bench and was handing him something…

That was moving.

\- What, the…Eita, what is this ?

It was…it was soft ? Small ? The Other put it in his lap and took his hands to show him how to stroke it. The…animal turned on his thighs twice before setting in a perfect circle and starting to…

\- Eita, it’s buzzing.

The soft laugh he got as a response was almost worth his terror of whatever the creature was.

\- That means she likes you. Now, you were saying ?

Was he, really ? Placing one hand on the buzzing animal, he leaned back, enjoying the warmth in his lap.

\- Can we go far from here ?

\- As far as you want.

**_15:37_ **

**_22.11_ **

****

There was a pair of twin foxes glaring at him with all the suspicion in the world. Kenjiro would usually be on the defence but they seemed willing to keep quiet and polite in the presence of their clan leader, and he could respect that.

That deep into Kitsune territory the only rules that mattered were the ones the foxes enforced which was why he was letting Eita do the talking.

Kita, the disturbingly calm head of the clan, was looking over the papers Eita had taken out with what was either really well acted curiousity or…Or it could have been real, which meant the man actually read spreadsheets and cared about information that came in that format. Which made his about seven times more terrifying. Kenjiro, for his part, was keeping just as silent as the twins, only occasionally staring back. It wouldn’t do well to act all helpless, even if he still had no idea how to use whatever powers he had, even after Eita had told him he’d done a spectacular display at the shop back when they’d gone to meet Yahaba, and that even the Vampire King had been impressed.

\- Our territory shares a border with Black Water and the property you’re talking about is actually right on top of said border. The fence is actually half a dozen of metres away from Ghost City. It’s more or less on the crossing place between the three. Black Water Sinking Ships is generous enough to let us handle that small part of his territory and since Ghost City is technically outside of it, Crimson Rain spends quite some time around but the borders with him are clear and he comes to play tourist occasionally. – Kita closed the folder. – Would any of those cause a problem ?

Eita studied the fox while said fox waited with what looked like endless patience. Though, based on what company he was keeping, he probably was a saint.

\- Would we have problems with them ?

Kita tapped the desk once in what was, maybe, temper ? Impatience ? Patience ? Kenjiro had no idea. The man was as placid as the ocean and just as impossible to comprehend. He didn’t exactly like it but he could appreciate the direct honestly that wasn’t linked to the man he had been in the past. The twin foxes seemed to dislike him purely because of his face which he could accept and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t even begin to guess Kita’s opinion.

\- If the fish skeletons and water dragons don’t bother you, then no. You wouldn’t. And any residents of Ghost City who leave the premises are warned not to bother anyone within out territory. So you should be fine. Is there something I should warn them about ?

\- Ice. And Kenjiro is a banshee.

The twins raised their eyebrows in almost identical expressions of surprise while Kita…Kita smiled. It was small and barely there but he definitely saw it.

\- It will make living by those two demons interesting, then, but it shouldn’t bother them as long as you’re both being respectful.

\- Sounds like we have a deal, then.

Kita stood up and shook Eita’s hand, face still placid, and then glanced over to Kenjiro. What was he thinking about… He had been quiet and polite, why was the Kitsune looking at him now, after they had agreed on the conditions ? He waited, the fox waited, the Sentinels were getting twitchy and Eita looked way too…Too…

He couldn’t name it but it looked positive.

\- Gentlemen. I will have my lawyer stop by tomorrow to make sure everything is as legal as it should be. You’re staying in the hotel downtown, right ? – Eita nodded. – Perfect. He’ll be in around noon tomorrow and you can sort the fine details then. Is there anything else I can do for you ?

\- Sounds like we went through everything. Thank you.

Kita nodded and that was, apparently, Eita’s cue to turn and leave. The twins didn’t nod and Kenjiro felt a small sense of victory when he muttered a quiet “ _Thank you”_ to Kita and they ended up looking like rude ones. Too bad.

When at noon exactly the twin with the slightly darker hair walked in the hotel café with a briefcase in hand and a tailored three piece suit on, Kenjiro could just sigh in defeat. There would be no getting away from them, would it ?

**_18:43_ **

**_27.12_ **

Eita had been gone for a two days now and Kenjiro was flipping through textbooks, trying to focus. The cold didn’t even bother him even though he could see his breath, his blanket more than enough of a coverage. Up in the mountain he could see the white capped peaks and knew that Eita was there somewhere doing…ice elf stuff and probably being happy. He had mentioned he didn’t mind the heat but nature was nature and with winter coming heavy and white, he’d pulled him in a tight hug and then disappeared up the mountain with a backpack, his phone and several solar batteries. Apparently, there was a cabin all the way up and the more annoying of the Kitsune twins had given him the keys with barely veiled disgust. When it got really cold, he learnt, foxes usually liked being outside but the twins were exceptions. The man had looked almost happy, especially since he’d made a call right after explaining to someone how sorry he was but he’d already promised the cabin to someone and given them the keys. Talk about faking it.

But now he was alone and he found out…he didn’t really mind it. It gave him time to think, pour over the textbooks one of the Kitsune had given him when he’d mentioned he’d like to actually do something with his life and how without memories he would have to start form zero, and opened the online platform again.

And then closed it. He needed a break.

The air was crystal clear. The house was right on the spot where the mountain met a rocky valley and both touched the sea, and he swore he could see and hear for kilometres. At night the stars glittered like diamonds and even the almost ever present flying fish skeleton shaped wraiths didn’t bother him. It was completely quiet, the forest breathing softly behind the yard, and the random sounds of members of the Kitsune clan and the various strays they had picked along the way walking by didn’t disturb his happiness.

It was perfect.

He could identify the time of the day by the way the air tasted alone and it was always so crisp, melting on the tongue and sliding down his skin. Instead of pressing down on him the way he’d heard some describe it, the silence allowed him to breathe, to truly take a deep breath and feel alive.

He did wonder, sometimes, how much longer he could keep Eita leashed to himself. A little longer, he considered while one single wraith butterfly perched on the fence. Just a bit more.

**_20:52_ **

**_28.01_ **

****

Everything was white. The forest was white, their yard was white, the roof was white. Even the water closest to the beach had frozen and snow had piled on it. It was blinding and the very wind felt sharp as an icicle. He couldn’t taste the green anymore, or the blue. Only the endless, vast white.

Behind him, Eita pulled him closer under the covers, murmuring something under his breath in his sleep. With his face pressed into his neck, Kenjiro would feel every breath and every heartbeat. Every little pulse of life in the solid weight behind him. He laced their fingers on his stomach. A little longer.

**_23:59_ **

**_29.02_ **

****

\- You want to talk about it ?

Kenjiro turned. Caught. Eita stood by the door, leaning over the frame, loose t-shirt and soft pants on and his feet bare on the tile. He looked warm, rumpled and quietly happy. Kenjiro had no idea why.

\- About what ? – The other man pushed himself off of the frame and walked slowly to him, dropping in the couch beside him and obviously deliberately not touching him.

\- About what had been going on in this head of yours since we spoke to Yahaba. You can tell me, you know. We can talk it through and you will be able to sleep again.

In the face of such open and calm honesty he found himself incapable of holding his tongue. And, he didn’t really have to, did he ? He had been waiting for the right moment to do this, postponing until the very last moment, and then some. This was karma’s payback. He hadn’t done it right so now he didn’t have any choice in the matter. So he allowed himself to remember every little detail of this one moment, from the wind outside, through the pops of the logs in the fireplace, all the way to the light glittering in Eita’s eyes. Nothing more than a moment. He’d already taken enough.

\- What kind of contract is binding you to me ?

\- I’m sorry but…what ?

\- You are bound by a contract to be near me, correct ?

\- No…? Why would you think that ?

\- Because you stayed with me after…everything.

\- Can’t I do that because I want to ?

\- I used to be a terrible person, so no ?

\- Okay, now I am going to need you to explain yourself. So. What do you mean by that ?

He didn’t want to explain.

He really didn’t want to.

\- Kenjiro, who told you that ?

\- Nobody. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out, though. And I am not an idiot. With how everyone who used to know me before behaves and compare me to Yahaba, it’s pretty clear.

\- That the only reason I would ever make the choice to be around you is a demonic contract.

He couldn’t look Eita in the eye.

He couldn’t even lift his eyes from that one spot on the carpet.

\- The reason I chose to leave Shiratorizawa and help you is the same as the reason I did what I did when I saw the swans. The man you used to be was important to me. Very, very important. No contracts, no debts, no bets or favours owed. He was simply someone I cared deeply about. Enough to choose him and justice over rusty old bonds and archaic laws.

The man he had been before. Before he’d lost everything he had been.

Before he’d been forced to put together himself from the few mismatched and jagged pieces he’d managed to salvage in the wreckage.

Before, when he’d been sane and whole, and at least a little human.

\- As to why I am here now ? Because this new person you built from nothing is also really important for me. You’re different, very, very different, but that doesn’t mean I can’t care about you. Trust me, if it were obligation, I would have found a way to break it long time ago, even if it had meant making a deal with something much worse than you. Actually, I am the one who chained you to me and life, not the opposite.

But it being a choice didn’t make any sense and he couldn’t understand why Eita was insisting on saying those things as if they were truth…

When he knew they couldn’t have been.

\- I chose you. More than once. I chose the man you used to be. And then I chose the man you created after that but not because of what we had years and years ago. I simply saw who you were becoming. That’s all. Can I see that other person in you ? Yes. But not enough to be able to use you as a substitute, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s all about who you are right now.

\- How can you say that with a straight face… - Eita smiled, his small soft warm smile that reached his eyes and made Kenjiro unreasonably happy.

\- Surprisingly easy when you’re blushing so hard. It’s the truth, though. Oh, I heard that you and Atsumu are finally getting along. How’s work going with him around you all the time ?

\- I swear, Eita…

****

**Author's Note:**

> So. A few things.
> 
> Before everything, check out this fanart I got -- https://twitter.com/Possumel/status/1173270946054115328
> 
> It's super cute and I love it and it's amazing. Did I mention it's cute ? I'm honoured and happy and just...awwww.
> 
> First, this took months to finish. Literal months. Many songs were played on loop for it, the most influential one being C21 FX - Blood Red Roses. Check it out, it's amazing.
> 
> Second, the scene before meeting Yahaba ? You can see what exactly Shirabu did in Midnight In A Bottle, the first piece in the series. 
> 
> Third, will I ever stop adding cameos of Heaven's Official Blessing ( TGCF, the two demon kings, Black Water and Crimson Rain, repsectively ) in all of my works in all fandoms ? Never. 
> 
> Tell me how it is. Comments ? Kudos ? Criticisms ? Give them all, I love for them.


End file.
